Darcy's Jealous Love
by RobinDesBois
Summary: Darcy and Elizabeth have a guest shortly after their marriage, and Darcy gets jealous; Elizabeth can't help but enjoy the way his jealousy manifests. Mature adult content.
1. Chapter 1

Darcy and Elizabeth had been married in January, and had spent the winter falling deeper in love with one another—especially Darcy, who could no longer remember how he lived in such a large, dark house before his wife filled and lightened his beautiful rooms. Elizabeth, on her part, hadn't lost her independence—nor would she ever—but had often found herself wondering how it was she had ever been able to sleep without Darcy's strong arms pulling her to his chest every night.

Their private little bubble burst, however, in the spring, when Darcy and Elizabeth were having their first guest (excluding, of course, the Bennets and the Bingleys, who hardly ever left, and no longer were truly considered company) since their marriage. Mr. Creedance, an acquaintance of Mr. Darcy's from his Cambridge days, had come to visit Pemberly for several weeks. Elizabeth, despite her nervousness at hosting independently for the first time, was proving to be an excellent hostess. In fact, Mr. Darcy thought she was too good a hostess.

In her attempts to prove that she was worthy of the title of Mrs. Darcy, Elizabeth may have shown her guest a little too much attention. She had memorized how he took his tea, shown him her favorite selections from the library, and conversed largely with him. However, the worst of it, in Darcy's view, was that Elizabeth invited Mr. Creedance to join them on their morning strolls around the grounds. It hadn't troubled Mr. Darcy much at first, as he believed his wife was politely including his friend in their morning rambles about Pembery's grounds, and he could only regret that he wasn't able to pull his wife behind a tree and ignore society's propriety for a few moments. But he couldn't help being troubled when Mr. Creedance joined her on a day he was unable to go with them, and every day thereafter, including this morning—a walk from which they had yet to return.

Did Mr. Creedance really believe it was appropriate to go on such long walks unescorted with a woman? Did he believe that it was proper if the lady was married? Or did he simply not care for propriety? _After all,_ Mr. Darcy recalled, _he did congratulate me on finding such a lovely bride. And_ _I'm not_ blind. _I see how he looks at Lizzy…the way I looked at her at Huntsford…the way I looked at her after I knew she had to be mine!_ He knew it wasn't his wife's intention to be improper; she would have gone on a walk with anyone but Wickham, had the opportunity arisen, and wouldn't likely think anything of it.

Darcy also knew Elizabeth loved him—a woman like her wouldn't (indeed, couldn't) emulate the passion he had seen from her in their bedchamber after their marriage. Of that he was sure. But would Mr. Creedance be inhibited by Elizabeth's disinterest? Recalling from his college years, Mr. Darcy believed the man would only interpret resistance as modestly, and would take it as a challenge. A challenge he would intend to win.

Darcy bolted out of his chair in the library and hurried to the door of his estate. Pulling on his greatcoat, he mentally traced Elizabeth's customary route across the grounds. They were likely in the woods by now. _The woods! A perfect place to hide from witnesses!_ Darcy walked as quickly as he could, with all of his customary authority, towards the forest path and into the trees.

What he saw there filled him with almost as much jealousy as the idea that Wickham had wanted Elizabeth. She was leaning over picking wildflowers, one soft escaped curl falling into her lovely eyes, and Creedance, the swine, was not being subtle in his admiration of her bent over position. He saw the man's mouth move, then his Elizabeth—his!—returned to her standing position, laughing up at him—that laugh was meant for him!—and slip her arm into his elbow—that hand, too, that was his!—and lead him farther down the path.

 _They didn't even notice me,_ Darcy thought, his jealousy fading into hurt. Despite what he'd said at Huntsford, he'd always known that Elizabeth was too good for him. _But if she's too good for me, she's certainly too good for that useless swine! After all, I'm younger…but I suppose…if she wants experience…or someone who will perform better at social functions, he's the right choice. But I'm wealthier! Though Lizzy has never cared so much about that, or she would've accepted my first proposal…_ with this dark reminder of her initial rejection of his suit, Darcy forced himself to turn away from his wife and the man he believed she now favored and return to his library.

Once Darcy got there, he yanked open the bottom drawer of his desk, where he hid a bottle of whiskey and two small glasses (a spare for the father-in-law he'd grown fond of) that he normally saved for when his mother-in-law (or brother-in-law, though that was much rarer) was on her way. With a shaking hand, he poured himself as much as the small glass would hold and downed it in one swallow.

He did this about four times before Mr. Creedance walked in. Darcy's recently drowned jealousy returned in a flash, this time fueled by his drunkenness. Fortunately, Darcy was one of those rare people that retain control of his body even after whiskey has robbed them of their senses. Which is why Darcy's first swing at Mr. Creedance's face hit his jaw and slammed him into the oak door.


	2. Chapter 2

"Get up, coward, and fight me like a man," Darcy commanded as he landed a kick in Mr. Creedance's stomach.

"What's wrong, Darce?" Mr. Creedance moaned.

"What's wrong?" Darcy repeated as he lifted Creedance by his collar. "What's wrong? Do you think I'm blind? Stupid? That I don't see the way you look at her? I know you want her, but _she is mine_."

Creedance smiled slyly. "So, you noticed, did you? She's too good for you, you know. Did you notice the way she takes my arm when we walk? The way she smiles when I walk in a room, and sees to my comfort well before she worries about yours? Or were you too busy walking around your big, lonely house while I was spending time getting to know your lovely wife? Tell me, how do you think she'll like living in my London house? A country miss like her, she'll make a perfect mistress." At this last insult, Darcy pulled back one fist and punched his old college acquaintance square in the eye. He released the now limp man's collar and he fell gracelessly to the ground at Darcy's feet.

As he looked down on his adversary trying to decide what to do with the man, Mr. Darcy heard the door creek open behind him. He turned quickly, expecting to see servants investigating the sounds, and stared directly into the confused face of his wife.

"Elizabeth…" he whispered.

"I heard it, William. I heard all of it."

"Do you…do you love him?" Darcy asked softly, gesturing at the limp man on the floor.

"William, of course not!" Elizabeth answered, stepping forward and slipping her arms around his neck. "I love you, only you, always you," then nuzzled her face into her husband's strong chest. Darcy wrapped his arms around his wife's small waist, sighed, and buried his face in her soft hair.

"Are you drunk?" asked Lizzy, smelling his breath.

"Maybe…yes." Murmured Darcy, pulling her closer.

Elizabeth sighed, then asked, "What do we do with him?"

"Have the servants pack his things, I suppose. I'm certainly not letting him stay." Darcy growled at the end of his sentence and tightened his grip on Elizabeth's waist.

His growl and grip sent a shiver down Elizabeth's spine, and she pulled back from his chest, bit her lip, and looked up at him through her lashes, knowing that even sober Darcy couldn't resist that expression.

"Oh, Lizzy…" Darcy almost moaned.

"Have the servants pack Mr. Creedance's things and remove him at once. Meet me in your bedchamber once he's gone," she said softly. She slipped out of his arms, gave Mr. Creedance a good kick, and walked out of the door.

Darcy knew what it meant when his wife looked at him like that, and a footman (Darcy wouldn't trust Creedance alone with any of the female servants, and he frankly feared for the man's safety if Mrs. Reynolds were to find out why he was being removed—not that he would sympathize with any injuries the villain sustained, but if his housekeeper was known to injure guests, it might hurt Georgiana's chances when she came out) was dispatched to collect the man's things, while two more were assigned to remove him to the nearest public road, regardless of his ability to attain passage to another location. Tomorrow, he decided, would be soon enough to write his associates in London and ruin his chances of doing any successful business. His Lizzy, after all, was waiting for him. And he didn't entirely trust his judgment, or his handwriting, to write the necessary letters until he had sobered.

He departed for his chamber.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I'm going to warn you now, this is where the adult content comes in. I highly recommend turning back now if you don't think you can handle it. I'm also going to warn you this may be the end of this story, but I have other ideas I may work on in the future.

Thanks,

LaBelleABoisDormant

Lizzy was waiting happily in her chemise, sitting on the edge of her husband's bed. She knew she should be feeling dreadfully insulted at Mr. Creedance's behavior, but she couldn't help trusting her husband to protect her from the man's actions. It was a rather liberating feeling.

Not like the one she got when he behaved possessively towards her. Or when his voice got low and he started to growl. She couldn't quite explain the feeling it gave her, but she liked it. It was a sort of warm, tingly feeling, and it largely served to make her want him to hold her tighter.

Finally, her husband walked into the room. She couldn't help but smile a bit when he immediately locked the door. She rose from the bed and waited for him to come to her, and she was not disappointed. He wrapped one hand around her neck to pull her face to his, and the other around her waist to pull her flush against him. He delved into kissing her with a force she'd never before known he possessed, and after a moment she felt his hand slip off her waist and over her buttock. She could still taste the alcohol on his breath, but she found she didn't mind if it meant he kissed her like this.

After a moment, he pulled back and threw her on the bed and started removing his jacket. She began to sit up, but he pushed her back down on the bed, throwing his jacket on the floor.

"Stay. Down. There." Came the soft but forceful command.

"Yes, William," Lizzy found herself whispering in reply. Darcy continued to undress himself from the waist up, while Lizzy watched, enjoying the way the sunlight reflected on the hard planes of his chest. He looked at her, and she bit her lip at the fire glowing in his eyes. Darcy leaned down and kissed her, using his tongue to part her lips and delve into her sweet mouth.

"You are mine, Lizzy," Darcy whispered forcefully into her ear as he reached for the hem of her chemise. "All mine. Every inch of you. Mine." He kissed her again before lifting the chemise over her head and throwing it down with his things. When her arms were free from the confines of her undergarments, she reached up to wrap them around his neck and pull him closer, but she never got there. He'd grabbed her wrists and pinned them together over her head. He reached his other hand over the side of the bed and grabbed his cravat.

"What are you doing, William?" asked Lizzy, who had never seen her husband behave this way, but couldn't say she minded.

"Making you _mine_. Mine, no one else's." He said this as he slipped his cravat around her wrist, the bed frame, then the other wrist, effectively trapping her in place. Lizzy tugged at her bonds, but they were tight, and didn't move so much as a fraction of an inch. Darcy removed his pants, removing any doubt from his wife's mind as to what his plans might be, and placed his body over hers, sliding first one knee, then the other, between his wife's thighs. Darcy kissed Lizzy again, briefly this time, and pulled back to watch her eyes flutter open in disappointment that he hadn't kissed her longer, harder, rougher.

Darcy heard her gasp and saw her eyes close again in pleasure as he roughly entered her. He took her roughly, loosing himself in the moans he elicited from his wife and drowning in the glory of knowing she was entirely his. She finished moments before he did, and he collapsed against her in exhaustion.

After a few minutes, Elizabeth realized her husband had no intention of moving. Which wouldn't be a problem, really, she relished the feeling of his weight on top of her, his hard hips between her soft thighs, his breath on her nech as he buried his face in her hair. Unfortunately, his current position did preclude her from breathing properly.

"William…" she whispered, and received a grunt in return. "Darling…I can't quite breath, love…."

Darcy heaved off of her and collapsed on the bed beside her, throwing his arm across his eyes. Lizzy could tell something was bothering him now, but she couldn't comfort him until her hands were released from the confines of his cravat.

"Darling…"

"Lizzy, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I…I couldn't stand the thought of that cretin thinking you were his. But to do that…I'm so sorry, my love, please forgive me."

"Perhaps, darling, we could discuss it after I have regained the use of my hands." At this, Darcy sat up, clearly having forgotten that he'd bound his wife to his bed.

"My love, can you ever forgive me?" He asked as he quickly released his wife, pulling her into his lap.

"I'm not sure one is required to gain forgiveness for an activity the other party so…thoroughly enjoyed," she replied, looking shyly into his dark eyes and blushing profusely.

"Truly, Lizzy? I attack you, and you like it?"

"Very much, William. In fact, if you'd like to attack me again later, I would welcome it."

"Alright, who are you and what have you done with my strong, independent, indomitable wife?" he asked, throwing her back on the bed and propping himself over her on his elbows.

"Perhaps she has simply learned to be a proper, humble, submissive wife, Mr. Darcy."

"May God help us, Mrs. Darcy, if I no longer have my free-spirited Lizzy to tease me and vary my formerly lonesome days."

"I don't believe you shall ever lose her, Mr. Darcy," said Lizzy pulling her husband in for a kiss. "I just think you've discovered a new side of her. One that belongs, and always shall belong, only to you."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note,

By popular request, the story shall continue. This chapter is short, but there's more to come. If Jane Austen sees this, I humbly request she doesn't sue me.

Love,

LaBelleABoisDormant

Lizzy and Darcy slept most of the rest of the day away.

They finished just before dinner, and it took quite a bit of tenacity from Lizzy to convince Darcy it was worth it to even get up for the evening meal, rather than laying naked in each others' arms.

Eventually, though, Lizzy and Darcy found themselves enjoying the evening meal, making pleasant conversation, and occasionally just smiling at one another.

Neither of them brought up the subject of Mr. Creedance.

The next morning, Mr. Darcy dispatched letters to his London business acquaintances, knowing his name would carry enough authority for his decision to go unquestioned. He was, after all, the one who had remedied the debts of Mr. Wickham. What Darcy hadn't accounted for was Mr. Creedance's obstinate tendencies. An acquaintance of his, Mr. Wickham, had once mentioned that there was a fine cottage on the property that was generally unoccupied. Mr. Wickham had never offered how he came to possess such information, and Mr. Creedance had known the man's reputation well enough not to ask.

As soon as the Pemberley staff left his line of site, Mr. Creedance performed an about face and began exploring the woods.


	5. Chapter 5

Darcy and Lizzy spent the days immediately after Mr. Creedance's forced departure exploring their newfound delight in one another. Lizzy discovered that Darcy liked it when she pulled on his hair and when she dug her nails into his chest. Darcy found that Lizzy also liked having her hair pulled, but not nearly so much as she enjoyed it when he bit her neck. He admitted to himself that the second discovery was a bit of an accident, since he was trying to surprise her into tightening her grip on his hair, but the result was pleasant for both parties.

The servants, on the other hand, had spent their time learning to knock loudly on doors if they had even the slightest notion that their master and mistress might both be behind it, regardless of the time of day. Mrs. Reynolds herself had been the first person to become an accidental witness to the passions of her employer, when she opened the door to Mr. Darcy's study and been greeted by the sight of his wife bent over the desk, skirts piled around her hips, gripping the edge as if it was the only thing keeping her together, while the man himself stood behind her grunting, gripping her hips, with his pants dangling about his ankles.

Mrs. Reynolds had dropped the tray she was holding and run out of the room—closing the door behind her—while Darcy had come to a sudden halt and made a quick grab for his pants. Elizabeth had stood, letting her skirts fall, and, with all the grace of a child hiding from an angry parent, slipped under Darcy's desk and declared she was never leaving.

That evening, Mrs. Reynolds had refused to make eye contact with either Mr. or Mrs. Darcy (which neither of them noticed, since they kept their eyes firmly on the floor whenever she came into proximity), until Mr. Darcy had entered her kitchen while she was alone and quietly informed her that her work had warranted a raise, and she would now be given an extra thirty pounds a week. Mr. Darcy was sure to emphasize that it was her discretion that had earned her further pay, and then quickly left the room.

"Discretion, indeed. Like anyone would believe me if I told them what Mr. Darcy of Pemberly had been doing…" Mrs. Reynolds murmured to herself as she finished clearing the dining room.

Locks were installed on the study doors the next day, and the Darcys made every reasonable attempt to be quiet and ensure the door was locked henceforth every time Lizzy visited to "assist with his paperwork."

A week after the incident with Mrs. Reynolds, Lizzy woke alone in Darcy's large bed.

"William," she whispered sleepily, while her arm stretched out to locate his sleeping form. What she found instead was a red rose and a note on his pillow. Unfolding the note, she read;

My darling Lizzy,

It was not my intention to leave you alone this morning. One of my greatest joys is watching you wake, only second to the seeing the pleasure I bring to your face when we are together. Urgent business calls me to London, but I hope to only be gone three days. I don't know how I can survive that long without you, my love, but I shall try, as I implore you to do as well.

When I saw this rose this morning on my way to the stables, I thought of you. Such great beauty, but unlike this rose, I am the only one who is permitted to discover all of the pleasures and softness your body has yet to offer. Additionally, I believe the color to be a fine match to the marks I believe you will find this morning on your neck and thighs. See this rose and think of me placing those marks on your skin, bringing you pleasure and marking you as my own. But use caution, my love, and dress carefully, or I fear Mrs. Reynolds may quit our employ, and I don't know how we could replace her. Few housekeepers have her discretion, and I would hate to curb our activities to hide them better from a new housekeeper.

All my love and more,

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Elizabeth sank back into her pillow, feeling a strange mixture of pleasure, disappointment, and nausea. She was delighted with both the rose and the note, but she was saddened that she would not see her husband's face that day.

She was especially disheartened that she would have to await his return to share the news that she expected to welcome his child to the world in mid-November.


	6. Chapter 6

Bad news, Kids,

My laptop charger shorted out last night, so it may be a while before I update again. But fear not, loyal readers, I have not abandoned you, and the story shall indeed continue-the constraints of real-world problems shall not stop the adventures there are to be had.

Have patience, and feel free to review-I love reading your comments.

Love,

LaBelleABoisDormant


	7. Chapter 7

_Dear Reader,_

 _Did you miss me?_

 _Please keep commenting, I really enjoy._

 _Love,_

 _LaBelleABoisDormant_

It was later that same day that Elizabeth's secret came out, though to her credit it was not by her doing.

She had been walking in the garden, wondering how long it would be until Georgiana returned from staying at their London home—her not-so-subtle method of leaving the newlyweds in their solitude. Though she was enjoying her time alone with her husband, she found herself longing for the familiar companionship of a sister, and she knew Darcy didn't enjoy prolonged separation from his sister—even if her return meant the installation of more locks in certain of the rooms.

Without warning, Elizabeth began to feel light-headed. She took a few steps towards the nearest bench, and suddenly the world went dark.

She woke several hours later in a dark room, with Dr. Trainor and Mrs. Reynolds leaning over her. The later looked enormously relieved as her eyes fluttered open, while the former remained professionally nonplussed.

"Mrs. Darcy, how have you been feeling lately?" inquired Dr. Trainor.

"Erm…nauseous, hungry, tired…" Elizabeth admitted with a blush. She had hoped her husband would be the first to know of her condition, but it was clear from the doctor's amused facial expression he had unraveled her secret.

"Perhaps a bit, ahem, tender in certain areas, as well?"

"Yes," whispered Lizzy as she pulled her blanket a little higher, though it could not hide her deepening blush.

"Shall you reveal the reason for your fainting spell, or shall I?"

"I realized a week ago that I am with child, Sir." Mrs. Reynolds gasped.

"Does Mr. Darcy know of this yet, Mrs. Darcy?" asked the doctor.

"I was going to tell him today, but he was unexpectedly called to town."

"Very well. It is yours to tell, but I recommend he be told as soon as it is possible. Not only is this his child, but likely the heir to the Darcy estate, as well. The child has fared well from the incident this afternoon, but caution must be taken. Now, Mrs. Darcy, some things you should know." The doctor went on to list activities she should not be engaging in during her pregnancy, including horseback riding, heavy lifting, and—to Lizzy's horror—walking alone, and she was certainly not to go past the garden, in any case. Unfortunately for Lizzy, Mrs. Reynolds was nodding along with Dr. Trainor, clearly with the intention of preventing her mistress from doing anything she considered even slightly dangerous.

Lizzy wondered if she would be permitted to leave the bed while the child remained inside her, but couldn't help but be glad when the doctor told them she was to have any food she requested, so long as it was attainable. Dr. Trainor commanded her to remain in the bed for the rest of the day, and took his leave.

Mrs. Reynolds sat in a chair, claiming to be keeping the mistress company and remaining on hand should she need anything, but Lizzy had no doubt in her mind Mrs. Reynolds' primary motive was to ensure doctor's orders were followed. After all, the willfulness of the new Mrs. Darcy well known to the household staff, if not the entire county, and Mrs. Reynolds wasn't likely to trust a newer maid to ensure the mistress remained abed.

While Lizzy rested, a post came informing her that she could expect Miss Georgiana by the next day, and Lizzy formed a plan to reveal her condition to her still absent husband. But she would need the assistance of both her new sister and Mrs. Reynolds to make it work.


	8. Chapter 8

Darcy would have chosen nearly any activity over his trip to London. He would've preferred to be at balls every day for a week than to be chasing down Mr. _and_ Mrs. Wickham off and attempting to pay down the incredible debts they had racked up together. Unfortunately, they were doing it by using their relationship to him to gain credit, so their choices were reflecting on him, possibly more than themselves.

He finally found them on the second day of his journey at a rather unpleasant inn in a questionable part of town. Mrs. Wickham was at one table, gabling and blatantly flirting with the soldiers their, and Mr. Wickham was across the room engaging in what might be liberally called conversation with a woman who might conservatively be called an entertainer.

As he approached Wickham, he saw the man lean in and whisper something in her ear, punctuating it with a sharp smack to her ass. Darcy hated himself for picturing himself and Lizzy in their places.

"Ahem."

"Ah, my old friend, Mr. Darcy," said Wickham slyly. "Or shall I now say 'brother.' So sorry I couldn't make it to your wedding to my dear sister, but I wasn't invited."

"A mere oversite, I'm quite sure," Darcy retorted sarcastically.

"I see that lovely wife of yours has had an influence on your demeanor. Would it be too much to hope she has loosened you in other ways?"

"Far too much, particularly in regards to you. I insist you desist your overspending in my name, Wickham, or I shall call you out. And we both know that sword is just for show."

"Now, Darcy, I have no need to impress ladies with wealth and weaponry. Unlike some people, I have wit and personality to recommend me. I rest easy knowing my wife did not marry me because of my name."

"No, I seem to recall she married you because neither of you was presented with an alternative. And it would appear you do not have a monopoly on the sort of 'wit' your wife finds so enchanting." Darcy nodded to where Mrs. Wickham leaned towards the soldiers, and he couldn't help but wonder how the girl's chest managed to stay in her dress.

"Ah, that. A bit of an agreement between us. I look one way, she looks another, we don't ask, we don't tell. To tell you the truth, Darce, I rather enjoy some of the things she learns on her little trysts."

"Good Lord."

"For example," continued Wickham, recognizing mortification on the face of his oldest acquaintance and wishing to exacerbate his discomfort, "have you ever spanked your wife? Not as a sort of real punishment, but for your own entertainment? Lydia enjoys it more than you can imagine. Then, I suppose with a husband like you, the lovely Miss Elizabeth probably just lies there and waits for you to finish."

That's when Darcy punched him.

"It's Mrs. Darcy to you, you horse's ass, though I believe you thoroughly beneath having the right to speak of her at all. Return to your post tomorrow, with your wife, or next time I have to clean up your mess I'll be sure to prevent any future pleasure Mrs. Wickham may expect from you, if you catch my meaning."

Darcy turned on his heal, and with an almost imperceptible nod to his sister-in-law out of habit, he left the inn for his townhouse, where he fell into his bed, said a prayer of thanks he had sent Georgiana away the day before, just in case, and fell asleep, dreaming of his wife.

To his intense chagrin, he dreamt of spanking her.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you to Ardina Falconhurst for bringing the error in the previous upload of this chapter to my attention!_

 _And thank you to everyone else, too, I'm so flattered you like my story._

 _Love,_

 _LaBelleABoisDormant_

The next morning, Darcy returned to the inn he'd been at the previous evening, verified that Mr. and Mrs. Wickham had, indeed, left, and then mounted his horse and headed for home.

While her husband was making his way home, Lizzy was having a meeting with her sister and housekeeper.

"Oh, Lizzy, truly, you are with child?" Asked Georgiana for the fifth time.

"Yes, Georgi, and do get your excitement out now," laughed Lizzy. "Do we all understand the plan?"

"Yes, Mrs. Darcy, if you insist" and, "Oh, yes, what fun we shall have until Will figures it out!" came at Lizzy from both sides, in drastically different tones.

A footman entered the room. "Mrs. Darcy, Miss Darcy, the carriage has just arrived," he announced.

"Thank you, Jeffrey." Lizzy's words were calm, but she followed them by bolting out of the room and towards where she knew the carriage would be. She was halfway down the front steps when Mrs. Reynolds left the grand house, leaning on the doorframe and too out of breath to admonish her mistress's risky behavior.

Lizzy, forgetting herself, jumped into Darcy's arms, where she found a welcome reception. After kissing his much-missed wife thoroughly, he swept her off her feet and carried her toward the house, both of them laughing, and Lizzy pressing kisses into the side of his neck. When they finally reached the door, Mrs. Reynolds had finally caught her breath.

"Mrs. Darcy, you have to remember what the doctor told you about exercise! We can't have you fainting again!"

"Doctor? Fainting? Elizabeth, what happened? Are you unwell?" Concern burned in Darcy's eyes, and Lizzy almost regretted her plan.

Almost.

"I'm quite well, darling, especially now that you are back," she was trying to distact him with flattery, but it was not to succeed.

"Why was the doctor called, Lizzy?" he demanded, tightening his grip on her.

"Oh, I merely fainted a little bit." She tried to dismiss it with a wave of her hand.

"What? Why was I not informed?" He glared between her and Mrs. Reynolds, wanting to be angry with both, but love for one and a mild fear of the other reigned him in.

"As you can see, Mr. Darcy, I am quite well, but I thank you for your concern," Lizzy said, then she whispered, "I would be even better if you would carry me to our chambers."

"Very well, but this discussion is not over."

He nodded to Georgiana as they passed her in the hall on the way to the bedchamber. Lizzy winked, reminding her of their secret, and causing her sister to burst into a fit of giggles. Unfortunately for her, Darcy saw the wink, and knew enough of his sister's remaining innocence to know she wasn't giggling from knowledge of what they planned on doing in their bedroom.

He kicked the door shut before placing his wife on their large bed, kissed her forcefully, and returned to lock the door. On his return trip, he stripped himself of his outer garments. He settled on the bed between his wife's legs, still covered by her dress, and collapsed against her, wanting but still tired from his journey.

"Careful, William, don't put quite so much weight on me, please." He pushed himself up on his elbows so his weight was no longer resting on his wife.

"What happened, Lizzy?" he asked, kissing her neck. "Are you ill?"

"Yes, William, very ill."

He pulled back suddenly, about to force her to rest and fetch the doctor for his own confirmation of her health, when he noticed the teasing sparkle in her beautiful eyes.

"I'm burning up with fever for want of you, William." He growled and kissed her again.

"You're lucky I've been gone for three days and don't have the capacity to resist your charms, Elizabeth, or I would refuse you until you tell me what is going on."

They came downstairs several hours later, eager for dinner, having thoroughly exercised them selves the entire afternoon. Darcy had even gotten so distracted as to forget that his entire household appeared to be keeping a secret from him.

He did find it odd that Mrs. Reynolds kept asking his wife if there was anything else she wished for dinner, of if she would like an extra helping of anything. Then, when the baby potatoes were being served, Georgiana burst into giggles and the memory of the morning came flooding back to him.

"Georgie, dear, would you care to enlighten me about what is so amusing about the potatoes?"

"Do you not like baby potatoes, brother? I find them quite delightful. In fact, I one day hope this house shall be full of them." Georgiana responded with a wink to Lizzy.

"Perhaps only a few potatoes, Georgie, especially if they continue to upset my stomach the way this one does," replied Lizzy.

"Your stomach is upset, Elizabeth? Should I fetch the doctor? Perhaps if I do, at least one person might tell me what's going on."

"I am quite al—"

"Mrs. Darcy, did I hear your stomach is bothering you? Is something not to your liking? Can I fetch you anything?" Mrs. Reynolds demanded, returning to the room as soon as she heard the words 'upset stomach.'

"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds, no. We were merely discussing the charms and defects of baby potatoes. We were trying to determine how Mr. Darcy felt about having quite a few about the house in the future. What do you think, Mrs. Reynolds?"

The older woman narrowed her eyes and replied, "That would be a choice made by you and Mr. Darcy, of course, but I must admit to a certain longing for the sound of little erm…potatoes about the house again." She rolled her eyes a bit as she walked away. Darcy looked around the table like he was starting to believe he had accidentally gone to a particularly fine asylum instead of his home full of practical women.

"And you, Mr. Darcy, your opinion of the potatoes?" smiled Lizzy.

"Madam, I find the potatoes quite to my taste, and would not be opposed to having them more frequently, if that is your wish. However, I believe it worth noting that should the conversation focus much longer on the potatoes, you are in serious danger of loosing that which differentiates you from your cousin, Mr. Collins."

The rest of the meal passed in unflattering but accurate portrayals of the victimized parson, most notably by Georgiana, who said, in a slightly lowered voice, "These potatoes are nearly as fine as those served at Rosings Park by my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, but one cannot expect to exceed such a noble and refined Lady in terms of potatoes!" causing both Darcy to shoot water from his nose and Lizzy to produce tears in her eyes.

Meanwhile, in the forest behind Pemberly, Mr. Wickham pulled his oblivious wife down a well-known path to a little cottage, where he wrongfully expected to be able to plot alone against the Darcys.


	10. Chapter 10

The morning after the potato discussion, Darcy reached to pull his wife to him, hoping to convince her to indulge him in some early morning love-making.

He was distracted from his goal by the sound of Lizzy's stomach emptying into their chamber pot.

"I'll fetch the doctor," he said, reaching for his breeches.

"Don't you dare," she replied. "I'm almost done, and there isn't anything Dr. Trainor can do to help me."

"Elizabeth, you're ill, you need the doctor."

"I am not ill, and I most certainly do not. I can assure you, Sir, that if you fetch the doctor, by the time you return I will have walked far enough into the woods that you won't find me until well after dinner this evening. I don't care what the doctor said about restricting my walks to the garden."

"The doctor restricted your walks? Elizabeth, please, it's killing me to not know what's wrong with you."

Lizzy sighed. She knew she should tell her husband, and she didn't like to worry him so. But, she also still firmly believed the payoff of not telling him would make it worth it.

"If you insist on worrying so, might I suggest you send for my sister?"

"I will write immediately. I believe Mrs. Bingley will be here before the day is out."

He set out immediately to write his sister-in-law of his wife's illness, and elected to write his version of it, rather than her insistence that she was well.

The Bingleys, fortunately for Darcy, lived only a few hours from Pemberley, a decision they had made the evening after Mrs. Bennet's sixth consecutive visit. Jane Bingley was, indeed, at Pemberley by the time dinner was served that evening, along with her husband. Unfortunately for both Darcy and Bingley, Jane was immediately brought into the inner circle of the secret, and, somewhat reluctantly, joined in torturing Mr. Darcy. Not only did Jane believe the sight of Pemberley filled to capacity with potatoes would be delightful, but she planned on gaining a few of her own in the near future—though she was not currently in possession or anticipation of any.

That evening, after their guests had retired, Darcy rolled his wife onto her back and pinned her hands above her head.

"Tell me what's going on, Lizzy," he murmured against her neck.

"I've no idea what you're talking about, William. Now kiss me."

He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"No, really kiss me."

"Not until you tell me what's going on. It's obvious you and your sister and my sister and even my house keeper are keeping something from me, and I will know what it is, Elizabeth."

"Keeping something from you? Why on earth would we ever do that?" Darcy growled, low and in her ear, before releasing her wrists just long enough to fetch his cravat from the floor by the bed. It was a matter of moments before Lizzy's hands were secured to the bedframe, her nightgown raised over her hips, her husband's mouth grazing her lips and his erection rubbing against her hips. And still he refused to make contact between their lips.

"Please, please, William, I need you…" Lizzy moaned, shifting her legs to try to bring his face to hers.

"Tell me your secrets, Elizabeth, I would know all of you." At this, Lizzy whimpered and squirmed, her resolve weakening slightly. Darcy reached down to her thighs and pulled them hard over his hips, wrapping her legs around him and effectively immobilizing her. He slid his hand between them, finding her wet and ready for him.

"I see you're ready for me," he said, licking her from his fingers. "Tell me your secrets, and you shall have me, my love, or don't and I shall keep the pleasures I bring you to myself." At this, he placed his hand back on her and began rubbing gently, refusing to give her full pleasure until she surrendered to his wishes.

When she still refused, he slid one of his fingers into her, loving the sound of her increasingly loud moans. But, ever stubborn, she still refused to impart her secrets. She did, however, resort to begging, promising him any pleasure he would wish if only he would take her and give her complete release.

He was tempted by her begging, but Darcy was as determined to unlock her secret as she was to keep it, and he slid along her body, trailing expert fingers across the plains of her body where he knew they would bring her the most pleasure, and slipping his tongue across her soft, sweet flesh—then, suddenly, into her. Out, in, around, over; but pulling back every time she got close to the height of her pleasure. She was pulling on the bonds around her wrists, begging and moaning for his touch. Still, he refused to meet her needs. Finally, he raised himself back to where she was panting against the pillow, blinking at him through her haze of pleasure and frustration.

"If you truly refuse to tell me, my love, you will not finish tonight. But I shall." He reached between them again, and, grasping himself, quickly finished across her stomach. "To ensure that you don't try to finish yourself, I won't be untying your beautiful hands tonight. You won't be finishing again until I know your secret. And I suggest you tell me soon, for I am tempted to take you over my knee and give you a good spanking until you tell me." With that he rolled off her, pulling her nightgown back down and allowing it to absorb the mess he'd made on her abdomen. He curled up with his arms around her, though she could not reciprocate, and began to drift off to sleep.

Lizzy couldn't help her attraction to this side of her husband. The more he denied her, the more she wanted him. She had never seen him so obstinate, so domineering. When he had spilled himself on her, she wanted to jump on him—and was only stopped by the bonds still holding her wrists in place. He said he would leave her their all night—she believed him, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to fall asleep now. She tested her bonds to see if she could release herself, and found herself cursing his strength and knot-tying skills. Then, she thought, had he threatened to spank her? She couldn't help squirming at the idea. His big, strong hands on her, holding her in place and punishing her? Demanding her submission? She thought she might like to try that.

But what would Dr. Trainor say?

Once she had brought her baby into the world, she decided, she would have to find a way to get in trouble with him again.

How hard could that be?


	11. Chapter 11

Dear Reader,

!SPOILER ALERT—Darcy's going to figure it out in this chapter!

Side note-I've noticed some of you don't care for Darcy tying up Lizzy all night, which is totally fair. I'd just like to say that this is a story born of a bored mind, and none of the ideas or actions in it should be emulated in real life, particularly without further research. To those I may've offended, I apologize for your discomfort, however unintentionally it was caused. Of course, this is a decidedly fictional story, meaning our hero(in)es do not experience the repercussions of real life, and that is important to remember.

As always, I would be delighted to read your reviews.

Love,

LaBelleABoisDormant

The next morning, Darcy kissed his wife's cheek, then released her wrists from the bedframe. She tried to pull him in for a kiss, but he diverted and pecked her on the cheek instead.

"Not until I know your secret, love." With that, he rolled off the bed and left to get dressed.

At breakfast, a messenger came in from several of the Darcy's tenants, bearing the news that many of them had noticed food and livestock disappearing from their barns.

"Well, Bingley, care to do a little investigating today? I'd like to have something more solid than reportedly missing livestock before we attain the assistance of the sheriff."

"Certainly, Darce, when shall we set out?"

"Immediately after breakfast, I should think. James," Darcy summoned one of the footmen. "Do have two shotguns and horses prepared at once, won't you?"

"Right away, Sir." James replied with

"Oh, Charles, do be careful," beseeched Jane, looking worriedly at her sister.

"Of, course, Jane, darling," Charles smiled.

"Are you sure you can't send someone else to check on the farms, William?" Lizzy asked worriedly.

"As much as I would love to remain here and enjoy the delightful company of you ladies, it is my responsibility. I can't ask someone else to take a chance protecting my—our—lands."

"William, while I very much love that about you, I can't say I like it very much right now. What if it's something dangerous?"

"I would not care to meet the beast more dangerous than a loaded gun. I'll be back before you've noticed my absence, my love."

A few hours later, Darcy and Bingley had visited several of the farms where reports of missing animals had been reported. They found no sign of blood or footprints that would indicate a wild animal, but they did see several sets of boot prints, matching none of the feet belonging to the farm.

By mid-afternoon, they tracked the footprints towards the woods surrounding Pemberley, where they decided it would be unwise to venture forward without further assistance.

As they turned their horses slowly back toward the great house, Bingley decided to inquire as to the reason his wife was so suddenly summoned to care for a sister who appeared to be thriving.

"To tell you the truth, Bingley, I have no idea what is wrong with Lizzy. She shows signs of illness, but insists she is quite well, and will not permit me to summon the physician."

"Really? What sort of signs?"

"She has been expelling her stomach, and, while I was away, I am told she fainted in the garden. Apparently, the doctor has restricted her to walking no further than the gardens, and she is not permitted to run under any circumstances. And she's been saying strange things to Georgie and Mrs. Reynolds, and now Jane. She especially seems preoccupied with the way I…touch her." Darcy blushed at this last sentence, hoping his friend would not require more detail.

"Tell me, Darce, does she request anything unusual to eat?"

"Yes, actually, last night before we retired she said she was hungry still, and she went downstairs and prepared—for herself, mind, she did this of her own volition—eggs with a bit of melted chocolate. I was concerned, but I decided not to question her, and we went to bed. I tried to get the truth out of her before she went to sleep, but she is quite determined…pray tell, Bingley, what is it about my situation that amuses you so?"

Bingley had turned quite red in the face trying not to laugh in his friend's face. "Darcy, can you not puzzle it out? Lizzy is most assuredly not ill."

"How can you know that?"

"Because, my friend, Jane told me that she has been hoping for every sign your wife is showing. Apparently, Mrs. Bennet also had quite the proclivity for unusual combinations of food when she was expecting a child."

"What has Mrs. Bennet to do with…a WHAT?" Darcy's eyes got large, and suddenly he could see neither Bingley nor horse. He was seeing his wife, holding an infant that had her exact eyes, and presenting him with the first of his offspring. Suddenly, he kicked the sides of his horse, and raced back to Pemberley.


	12. Chapter 12

Darcy tripped while bolting up the stairs to the entrance to his estate, but he didn't care. He kept running, faster than he'd ever ran before, faster than he'd ran after her when she surprised him by appearing at Pemberley the first time, faster than any time he'd chased Wickham down, faster than he'd run back to Longbourn when he thought she might have changed her mind about him.

Finally, he reached the parlor, from whence he could hear feminine voices in soft conversation. He burst into the room and dived towards his wife. Kneeling in front of her, he pulled her face down and kissed her full on the mouth.

"Are you, are we, am I, are you?" Darcy panted, not wavering his eyes in the slightest from hers.

"If I understand you correctly, Sir, I am, we are, you are, and—again—I am."

Darcy burst out laughing as a tear escaped his eyes, and he rose to his feet. He pulled Lizzy to her feet, lifted her in his arms, and spun her around. Suddenly he stopped and put her down.

"Are you alright? Do you feel well? Are you hungry? Tired?"

"I am fine, thank you, merely desirous that you welcome the company that arrived shortly after lunch," Lizzy laughed.

Darcy turned to see Jane, Georgie, and the still unenlightened Charlotte Collins all trying to stifle giggles at the sight of the infamously haughty Mr. Darcy's response to the news, while Mr. Collins looked deeply torn between wanting to disapprove of Mr. Darcy's actions on behalf of Lady Catherine and wanting to understand what was happening, so as to more easily ingratiate himself to the wealthy host, who might not currently support him but was most likely to outlive his aunt.

"My apologies, ladies, reverend. I lost myself for a moment. Mrs. Darcy, might I have a moment alone with you."

"Certainly, Mr. Darcy. Do excuse us for a moment, won't you?" Darcy silently lead her to an empty room several doors away from the parlor, where he proceeded to kiss her senseless again.

"How long have you known? How long until…" He trailed off, too nervous and excited to finish his question.

"Only a few days, William. And in November, the shades of Pemberley are indeed to be thus polluted, and you may tell your Aunt Catherine I said so. I was going to tell you the day you left, but when I woke up alone, I thought it might be more fun to let you figure it out for yourself."

"I see I shall never be able to leave you alone for any length of time again."

"Oh, most ardently agreed, William." Lizzy smiled at him.

"How long do you suppose we might reasonably be absent from the parlor?" Darcy asked, stepping towards Lizzy and backing her against a low table.

"Hmm, Georgiana is becoming quite the accomplished hostess, and she does have Jane there." With that reassurance that they would not be breaching social etiquette, Darcy grasped his wife's hips and lifted her up onto the table.

Meanwhile, in the woods surrounding Pemberley, Mr. Wickham and Mr. Creedance sat at small table in a small cabin, nearing the bottom of a bottle of gin they'd found in the cellar.

"Well, Creed, do we understand each other?" slurred Wickham.

"You want revenge on Darcy, and couldn't care less what happens to the little woman, correct?"

"Indeed."

"And I want the bitch, and don't give a damn what happens to the man."

"Correct."

"You are surprisingly composed regarding my desire for your sister-in-law, Wick."

"I can't say your present thoughts hadn't crossed my mind before, Creed, but Miss Elizabeth is far to stubborn for me. Some fillies aren't worth breaking." Wickham's luck that Lydia couldn't hear what he was saying over her culinary struggles in the next room was incomparable. Admittedly, part of the noise emitting from the kitchen was the result of Lydia's anger at being expected to cook. "By the by, I believe we may need to exercise more caution. I think some of the locals have noticed the dwindling chicken population."

"Well, then, Wicky, I believe we will be able to help each other meet our goals. The moment opportunity strikes, we'll have at them. A toast! To the Darcys, they never find better friends."

"To the Darcys."


	13. Chapter 13

Hey everyone,

Sorry for the delay. Short, but super fun, chapter-hopefully it uploads correctly the first time!

Love,

LaBelleABoisDormant

That night, after the rest of the party had retired for the evening, Lizzy was standing in their bedchamber wearing nothing but a shirt she had filched from her husband. She had decided to get him back for the previous evening, and was feeling both excited and nervous about her plan.

When William walked in the room and saw her wearing his shirt, hair falling loose about her shoulders, and biting her lip, his gaze darkened and he locked the door behind him. He pulled her into his arms and bent his head to kiss her, but she reached up and placed a finger on his lips. Smiling, she gently pushed him down into the armed chair she'd pulled towards the middle of this room for this exact purpose. She pulled off his clothes one at a time—pausing for a moment when his arousal made his pants harder to remove than she had anticipated—and threw them in a pile on the floor, all except the cravat, which she set to one side.

Once he was divested to her satisfaction, she picked his cravat back up off the floor, then reached between her breasts and removed another. One at a time, she bound his wrists to the arms of the chair. Sitting in his lap with her thighs on either side of his hips, she trailed her hand gently over the side of his face. He turned his head to kiss her palm, but she pulled back too quickly for him and slid her fingers into his hair. She pulled his hair back, quickly, causing him to moan with pleasure.

"Kiss me, Lizzy," he whispered.

She brushed her lips lightly over his and replied, "I'll be the one giving orders tonight, William."

She began grinding her hips against him, running her hands across his shoulders, chest, and stomach and her teeth, tongue, and lips across his neck and shoulders. It was only moments before she had him begging under her, moving his hips in sync with hers and straining at his bonds.

"Lizzy, please, I need release."

"You'll have yours after I have mine."

She raised her hips just enough to take him inside her, then whispered, "Don't you dare finish without permission." They both kept moving, deeper and deeper inside her, and for the first time, Darcy was able to watch his wife finish without the haze of his own pleasure fogging his vision—but only just barely.

When she finished, she collapsed against his shoulder to catch her breath. A few moments later, she heard his still strained whisper.

"Lizzy, Lizzy, please let me finish. Please Lizzy, whatever you want, just let me finish."

"Whatever I want?" she responded, remembering as she recovered from her pleasure that he was still hard underneath her.

"Anything, for the love of God, anything."

"I'll be sure to hold you to that. Finish whenever you like, my love." With that, she raised herself from his lap and sank to her knees at his feet.

"What're you…oh, God," he moaned as she slid her tongue from his base to his tip. She twirled her tongue around him once, then took him entirely into her mouth. When she began sucking gently, she felt his hips buck even harder than they had before. He called "Elizabeth!" as he finished in her mouth, and she prayed the walls were thick enough that their guests would not suspect anything was amiss.

When she spat into the chamber pot and untied him, he pulled her back into his lap and kissed her as hard and long as he could. Then he carried her to the bed, insisting that she was with child and shouldn't have to do anything.

Lizzy spent the next few days attempting to go about her normal life, hosting her guests and managing her responsibilities at Pemberley. Darcy, on the other hand, spent the next few days trailing after his wife, refusing to let her lift anything heavier than a teacup and insisting she rest one arm on him when she went down the stairs. He even tried to sleep in another room, worried that two people in the bed might not be good for the baby. When he told Lizzy this, she informed him that it would be worse for the baby if she couldn't sleep, and she always slept best using him as a pillow.

Darcy surrendered willingly and readily.

Meanwhile, Jane and Bingley went back to their home, now that everyone knew Lizzy's secret. Mr. and Mrs. Collins, however, had come for a somewhat longer visit.

By the third night in a row that the parson had insisted that their evening's entertainment should consist of such pursuits as the reading and discussing of sermons (which might have originally been very good, but had been thoroughly disappointing in Mr. Collins's monotonous drone), Darcy was quite done with the man, and decided he would be better served searching the woods for the livestock thieves. Lizzy of course, attempted to go, but he forbade it. Under normal circumstances, Darcy's forbiddance would have all the same power over Lizzy as her cousin's oratory skills, but she was reminded of the doctor's orders, and had to agree to remain and entertain her guests.


	14. Chapter 14

My dear readers,

I owe you two apologies, first for the delay (though in fairness to me, I have acquired a boyfriend and a cat), and second for the shortness for this chapter. I'll try to be better about updating in the future.

Love,

LaBelleABoisDormant

While Mr. Collins droned on about his (and Lady de Bourg's) beliefs about childrearing, Darcy tracked the footprints from where they entered the woods to the old cottage in the woods. _Well,_ he thought, _I'm glad I had to wait to show Lizzy this place. She's certainly not coming out here in the near future._

He tied his horse to the tree and crept to the window of the main room. Words were not adequate enough to describe his shock at seeing his young sister-in-law making a half-hearted attempt to clean the room, muttering what were clearly complaints about having to do housework.

 _If she is here, HE must be here. But why? What can he stand to gain? He's married, Lizzy is married, he knows I won't give him so much as a pebble from my shoe, and we both know that if he gives Georgie even a funny look I'm within my rights to kill him._ As Darcy pondered all of this, Lydia picked up her bucket of dirty water and walked to the door to throw it out into the yard, and he had an idea. Lydia may not be the brightest girl, but she would certainly know more than he did, and if he knew her, it wouldn't be all that hard to get her to tell him.

"Lydia, my dear sister, I must take offense with you. For you are so close to my home, and yet you do not call. What have I done to offend you, and how might I try to rectify it?"

Lydia jumped out of her self-absorbed reverie to see her handsome, wealthy brother-in-law bowing to her and asking what he might offer her. Having been told by Wickham that she was in Scotland, she couldn't have been more surprised to see the man, let alone to hear she was near his home. Quick if not witty, she was fast to recover.

"Why, Mr. Darcy!" She smiled and leaned forward to show what cleavage she could in her cleaning clothes (which was admittedly an impressive amount), "How could someone as wonderful as you have possibly offended me?"

"Well, surely, there must be some reason you are staying in the woods of Pemberley and have not even deigned to grace my halls with your delightful presence?" Darcy found himself wondering for the first time if he could have been a successful actor had his life gone another way.

"The woods of…Pemberley? I'm near Pemberley? I could've been staying in a real house, not this hovel?" Darcy tried not to show his offense that the cottage he had loved as a boy and was excited to show his wife—after the birth of their child—was being referred to as a 'hovel' and focus on his current goal, tricking his sister-in-law into returning to his house and telling him everything she knew. He couldn't imagine the latter would take long. "Why, Mr. Darcy, you've done nothing to offend, of course…I'm sure we thought we were in another woods…."

"If I have done nothing to offend, surely you would not oppose returning to the house with me? I'm sure we could provide you with better comfort."

"Of course, my dear Mr. Darcy! Simply let me change my clothes, I'm sure these will not due for such an illusterious house." Darcy nodded and tried not to cringe at the mispronunciation. He followed her into the main room of the house, seated himself, and prayed she would change uncharacteristically quickly so that they could leave.


	15. Chapter 15

Dear readers,

You may notice my username changed-I was hoping no one would catch the grammatical error in the previous one, but someone (shoutout to "guest") did, so I am now RobinDesBois.

Short and sweet again, but know that I haven't abandoned you.

Love,

RobinDesBois

Darcy was not typically one for self-congratulatory thoughts. Though he was proud of his home and his family name, he was also aware that his actions simply maintained his standing, and it what he had been actually earned by his predecessors.

However, he truly felt he deserved an award of some sort for not pushing Lydia Wickham off of his horse. While rambling on about how lucky she was to have such a wealthy brother, how lovely his grounds were, and, particularly, how very delighted "Dear Wicky" would be to discover that they weren't in Scotland, after all, but at Pemberley, Lydia couldn't have known how close she came to remaining in the woods, mystery or no.

Arriving back at the main house, Darcy summoned a footman and asked him to inform Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Bingley that their sister had arrived, and request Mrs. Darcy to meet him in the library. He sent a maid with Lydia to settle her into her guest rooms, then quickly made his way to the library to try to explain what he knew to his wife.

Jane, Lizzy, Georgiana, and Charlotte could not have been more surprised when a footman entered the parlor and announced the arrival of Mrs. Wickham. Georgiana paled momentarily, but recovered herself beautifully as Lizzy squeezed her hand.

"Mr. Darcy requests that you join him in the library, Madam."

"Of course, I shall be there in a moment," she replied. Pulling her hand out of her sister's, she walked quickly from the room.

The moment Lizzy entered the library, her husband crushed her to his chest.

"Thank God you're safe, Elizabeth," he whispered in her ear.

"Why is my sister here?" Lizzy said, largely muffled, into his chest.

"Yes…I don't know. I found her cleaning a cottage in the woods. She seemed to sincerely believe, until the moment I told her where she was, that she was in Scotland. I think we can assume that Wickham was the one who told her that, and, therefore, that he is here…but where he is now, I can't say. I brought her here to try and get some more information out of her. I'm also hoping that taking his wife into my house will draw Wickham out of hiding, but I'm afraid that puts you and Georgiana in danger of having to be in his presence…or worse. Please, Elizabeth, I know how you love to go on walks, but—just for now, my love—please, please, stay indoors. Especially in your condition. If he were to touch you, or you were to faint again in the garden, I…I don't know what I would do. Please, please, let me protect you."

"Of course I will stay indoors, William. I wouldn't risk our child outdoors with Wickham nearby. But please, promise me that you will resolve this matter as quickly as possible. My need for fresh air and exercise is nothing compared with your sister's need for peace, which she can't possibly have with either Lydia or Wickham here."

Darcy couldn't help a slight laugh. With child, in danger, being denied her favorite pastime, and still his wife thought of his sister. God, he loved her so much.

"Also, William, the moment this matter is taken care of, I expect you to take me on a walk for as long as I please."

"Agreed." He sealed his promise with a kiss on the top of his wife's head.


	16. Chapter 16

"What shall we do about Lydia, now that she's here?" asked Elizabeth, pacing through the center of their library while her husband leaned on the window.

"You should sit down and let me worry about Mrs. Wickham, Mrs. Darcy."

Lizzy paced faster. "Oh, please. You don't know my sister. It's going to take a lot more patience than you have to get any information worth having out of her, assuming she actually knows anything at all."

"Still, I do insist you sit," he stated, reaching out and steering her by the elbow to a seat.

"Very well, then. This is how we should approach Lydia; Jane and I will take tea with Lydia in the upstairs parlor. Should Mrs. Collins wish to join us, she may, but Mr. Collins cannot be permitted. We have to keep Lydia talking, and he would talk over himself if he could. Perhaps you could take him hunting? Although I'm not sure I trust that man with a gun. And Geogiana can't be allowed to be exposed to her like this. But if she told you that much just on the ride back to the house, I'm sure we can get everything she knows."

"I can't deny the logic of your plan, my love, but are you sure you don't want to take Mr. Collins with you to your tea? Perhaps one of his speeches on virtue would loosen Mrs. Wickham's tongue?" William smirked at his charming wife.

"Perhaps you're right, Mr. Darcy. I can't help but to think that the more I expose your unborn child to Mr. Collins, the more he will absorb his pious and sycophantic behaviors. What a virtuous child we shall have, modeled after such a delightful man!"

"My darling, someday you must tell me how you know exactly how to make me see your point." He leveled a dark gaze at her, ensuring that he locked eyes with her and kept the contact between them while he raised her hand to his lips and began running his lips across her knuckles, her wrist, and up her arm.

"It's a simple matter of always being correct, my love," she whispered

He leaned towards her and whispered, "Someday I'm going to make good that threat to spank you, my dearest, darlingest Elizabeth." Lizzy squirmed a little in her seat at the look in his eyes.

"I suggest you lock the door, William."


	17. Chapter 17

William locked the door quickly, returning to his wife and kneeling at her feet. He pulled her face down towards him and kissed her firmly, then gently pushed her back into her chair.

"Relax, my love, and let me take care of you."

She sighed softly while he slid her skirt up over her knees, then lifted one of her ankles to his mouth. He ran his tongue and lips from her ankle to her knee, occasionally giving her skin a light nip with his teeth.

"Perfect, my darling, you are perfect," he said as he switched from one leg to another.

"Mmm," she replied, her eyes closed with the pleasure of feeling his warm lips on her knees. He reached up and tipped her hips back, then slid her skirt the rest of the way up. She moaned louder with the first nip of his teeth on her soft thigh.

Then he moved up higher.

"God, how I adore you. You're an angel, a perfect being. And you taste so good, my wonderful, divine goddess." He began using his tongue to show her exactly how much he adored her.

He lost track of how many times she called his name, and how many times she began stroking his hair and ended up pulling it, but he did not lose track of his goal.

Five minutes after he stopped, her eyes were still closed and she was still stroking his hair, but she had caught her breath.

"We have a while before tea time, my love, would you like to rest for a while?" William asked, kissing the hand that wasn't in his curls.

"Mmm…" she replied.

"Alright, Elizabeth, nap time," he chuckled. He returned her skirt to its traditional position, then stood up and took her in his arms.

As he was carrying her to their bedroom, he couldn't help but reflect that if, several years ago, someone would have told him that he would find a wife so precious to him that he would have someone like Lydia Bennet in his guest room, let alone carry that wife half-asleep through his halls after making love to her in the library, he would have accused the person of being too drunk to be respectably seen in public.


	18. Chapter 18

At tea time that afternoon, Jane, Charlotte, Lizzy, and Lydia were all gathered in the grandest of the Darcys's several parlors, in the hopes that such excessive opulence, as was in line with her own tastes, would induce Lydia into a stream of chatter.

It worked. Within an hour, she had revealed that they had been in the woods of Pemberley for several weeks, that Lydia had been quite put out by having to clean and cook, that Mr. Wickham had gone through an extensive amount of rum and whiskey, and that another gentleman had been staying with them, but had barely spoken to Lydia, and she could not recall his name. Elizabeth couldn't help but think that, if anyone else had lived with a man she wasn't related to for several weeks and not remember what his name was, it would have been quite remarkable. It did not surprise her from Lydia. It also did not surprise her that she, Charlotte, and Jane had barely had an opportunity to say anything.

When Elizabeth repeated the conversation to her husband later that night, he tried to hide how alarmed he was about the presence of a second, unknown man working together with Wickham, but his wife saw the flicker in his eyes, and she certainly felt him unconsciously gripping her hand harder.

"That's all she could tell you? A gentleman, spending time with Wickham, drinking and planning something?" he asked.

"That's all she would tell me, and I doubt that she is clever enough to know what information to withhold."

"I can't argue with that, but I need to know more. Who would work with Wickham? What could they possibly be trying to do?"

"We could interview Lydia day in and day out for weeks, we won't learn anything else, and we can't keep her here indefinitely without Wickham noticing. We're going to have to go back to the cottage, William, and confront one of them."

"We? Mrs. Darcy, you seem to forget that you promised to remain indoors until we solve this mystery. Do you really think I'm going to allow you and the future heir Pemberley walk into the woods and search for an unknown man with intentions that cannot possibly be good?"

Elizabeth sighed, "I suppose you're right. Heir, though? What makes you so certain that it's a boy?"

"Darcys have boys first, my love, for the last five generations. What do you think of the name Bennet?"

"Bennets have girls, darling. What do you think of the name Elinor? I read it in a quite charming book recently."

"I think Elinor would be a lovely name for our second child, but I don't think our son would like it very well."

"That's not a relevant concern, darling. Elinor Marianne?"

"Elinor Elizabeth. I mean, Bennet. Bennet Charles?"

"I would favor Bennet William, if it was of concern. Elinor Elizabeth…too alliterative, don't you think?"

"I think it has a lovely flow. It's only fitting that she has your name, love, since I hope daughter will look exactly like me, and she should have something of you."

"That's an original sentiment. You're very handsome, darling, but I'm not sure your features would suit a girl."

"Exactly. If she looks like you, in sixteen years I'll be spending all my time in the study interviewing all the men trying to convenience me they're good enough for her. If she looks like me, I'll still be able to spend time with you and the other children."

"I think you underestimate yourself, Mr. Darcy. And, loathe as I am to admit it, you are right, I need to stay here. But take someone with you, William, I can't let you walk into danger. Elinor needs her father."

"I swear to you, Elizabeth, Bennet will have me for a long, long time. I'll take some of the footmen, and maybe also send for Charles."


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: A couple quick things! I am still writing, I just had a hot minute of writer's block. Please accept my humble apologies (especially you, Pepperomia)! Additionally, this is now 14 pages longer than my thesis. So that's where we are now. Thanks for putting up with me, and please keep commenting!

Love,

RobinDesBois

Darcy was unused to sneaking about his own property, but it seemed fitting somehow that, the first time he did so, it was Wickham's fault. As he and Charles sat below the window of the cottage in the woods the next day, he couldn't help remembering going to this same building with his father and Wickham as boys. How times had changed.

"Hello, Creedance," came Wickham's lazy drawl. "Any luck today finding a good spot to breech Pemberly's defences?"

"No, of course not. It's more secure than the king's own palace. I don't see why I have to go look for weaknesses, anyway, when it's you that grew up here. Shouldn't you already know how to get in?"

"I told you already, I've been trying to find my wife."

"She's not at the bottom of that Whiskey bottle. I think you're just using her disappearance to get out of working—maybe you think that if we get caught, you can convince them you just happened to be here, since I'm doing all the work, eh?"

"You dare imply that I would do anything that would get between us and our plan?"

"Well, the fact that I've spent the last two days trying to find a way in to your childhood home while you don't even know where your wife is—she's at the main house, by the way, I saw her out walking this morning—doesn't leave much for the imagination."

"I told you, it's too dangerous for me to—wait, Lydia's at the house? With Darcy and Miss Elizabeth?"

Darcy felt a surge of anger at hearing his wife referred to by her unmarried name. It seemed both men needed yet another reminder that she is his now, and would be remaining so.

"Yes, and god knows what that little dimwit has told them."

"Gods, man, we have to act tonight."

"Why? It's not like Mrs. Wickham knows our plans."

"You don't understand how very good she is at ruining plans. She can do it without ever even knowing they exist. How do you think she ended up as my wife?"

"Very well. Tonight it is."

Darcy glanced sideways at Charles, grateful that Elizabeth had insisted footmen accompany them. With them surrounding the house, they would be sure of escape if caught.

"What are they planning?" demanded Lizzy from the chair in which he'd recently been so delighted to be her prisoner. He'd come home bearing the news that the man working with Wickham was Mr. Creedance, and he'd carried her to this chair when he'd seen the color drain from her face. It was only at her insistence that she wasn't resting in the bed.

"We don't know, dearest." He was kneeling in front of her again, but this time so that he could hold her hands in reassurance. "But we know they intend to act tonight. Apparently, they're afraid if they don't, Lydia will tell them our plans."

"How could they possibly think to get into the house?" They had agreed immediately that the men could only be examining the security of their home if they intended to break into it…but to what end?

"When Wickham and I were children…my love, this is a very old house. It's been modernized, but it used to be much more of a castle. There was an emergency escape route in the east wing for the Master in case the castle was ever sieged. The only two people who ever used it were myself…and Wickham."

"Surely it's not designed to be usable both ways?"

"Sadly, it is. The early Darcys…D'arcys, rather, didn't think that part all the way through, I'm forced to admit."

"Couldn't we just…nail it shut?"

"We could seal it, but I don't think that will stop them from trying to come in another way."

"I see."

"So I propose that Charles and I stand by that trapdoor tonight and ambush them when they attempt to gain entry."

"And what shall I do, just sleep through the entire affair?"

"That was my hope, but I can see by the look on your face that that has the same likelihood as my letting you join the actual fight."

"I know I can't join the fight, much as I would like to have my chance at harming either man. I have to protect our child."

"Which is why I have to protect you, my love."

"And yet, I can't stand the thought of not knowing how you fair. I propose that I shall stay in the room closest to the secret entrance, so I can know if you're injured, and fetch help, but they can't actually see me. Are you satisfied, my darling?

"I would rather you were further from the action. Actually, I would rather you were in London, and my sister with you, but I'm afraid I can't have everything. I propose that you remain in the parlor in the center of the house, where I know they can't get near you."

"I propose that you stay with me, and we hire someone else to stand guard."

"I can't ask someone else to risk his safety defending my home and wife in a fight like this."

"You took other men into the woods."

"Yes, we were simply eavesdropping. This is a fight."

"Then I insist on being on hand, I can't be calm without knowing you're safe. And I can't know you're safe without being there."

"Very well. But under no circumstances are you to leave that room. Agreed?"

"Yes, Mr. Darcy."

"You know, I still hate it when you call me that."

"Funny, I think it makes you sound more commanding. You know how I feel about you in command…Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth smiled slyly at her husband, who rose to his feet, swept her out of the chair and removed them both to the bed for the remainder of the afternoon.


	20. Chapter 20

_Gentle reader,_

 _A short chapter, but I promise a longer one coming. Bonus points to any commenter that can name another book I reference in the story._

 _Love,_

 _RobinDesBois_

When Darcy had imagined his tenure as master of Pemberly, it had not involved showing his wife how to use a pistol. If he had, he would never have anticipated how skilled she would be with it. Her first shot was only a few inches off the mark, and everything after that had been within half an inch of dead center.

"And you're sure you've never done this before, Elizabeth?" Mr. Darcy questioned after his wife's fifth perfect shot in a row.

"Certain, Will, though I do find it remarkably similar to a bow." Elizabeth laughed.

"Of course you've shot a bow. Your own idea, too, I presume?"

"Obviously. But don't tell my father. It was my agreement with Uncle Gardner that he would never know. I'm not sure why, I think he would take pride in having a daughter as skilled as I am with a bow."

"Knowing your father, I'm forced to agree with you. But you must to conceed, my love, it's not the most traditional selling point in the marriage market."

"And Lord knows you've heard them all."

"Indeed, I believe I have."

"Well, remind me later to tell you the details of Mr. Collins' proposal."

"I'm not sure I want to know."

"Too unconventional an unctuous for the serious Mr. Darcy!"

"More too offensive for the desperately, jealously in love Fitzwilliam."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. Which is why you should stay away from the secret passage this evening."

"Not a chance, William."

"You can't fault me for trying, Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy surrendered with a kiss.


	21. Chapter 21

_Gentle reader,_

 _Behold, the promised longer chapter! It may seem like we've reached the end of our story, but we still have a ways to go!_

 _Love,_

 _RobinDesBois_

As soon as the younger man had arrived at the house, Mr. Darcy unceremoniously led him into the study, outfitted him with a gun and sword, and explained the situation to him.

"Wait, Mr. Wickham and this other man—"

"Mr. Creedance."

"—they're planning to sneak into the house through a secret underground entrance—"

"Medieval emergency exit, actually."

"—so they can abduct Miss Eli—"

"Mrs. Darcy."

"Sorry. Habits, old man. So they can abduct Mrs. Darcy and do other unknown crimes against you, possibly attempting to kill you."

"Yes."

"And the sheriff isn't here because?"

"Several reasons. I do not want the attempted abduction of my wife published throughout the neighborhood, let alone any further. I do not wish to give the general public an idea of my weak spot, both in regards to the secret entrance to my house, and when it comes to the safety of my wife. Additionally, I don't want any more men like George Wickham getting ideas regarding Georgiana and attempting to use the escape tunnel to force her into a situation that would result in her feeling compelled to marry the aforementioned cad. Along with all of this, if I still need a reason to exclude untrusted outside parties, I am singularly responsible for the safety of every person in this house, which includes my wife and sister, as I mentioned, but presently also includes my staff, Mr. and Mrs. Collins, Mrs. Wickham, yourself, and Mrs. Bingley, as you may recall. I want to keep this information as restricted as possible."

"Well, Darcy, never let it be said that you can't make a solid argument. Are you certain that you and I alone can fight these two men and succeed?"

"Charles, you've never seen Mr. Wickham fight. I assure you, the soldier's uniform and the sword are only for show. And you forget, I was able to knock out Creedance when I was deep into a bottle of whiskey and he saw it coming."

"You did what?" shouted Bingley, deeply shocked at this new side of his friend

"That's right, you weren't here for that. Well, you get the point."

"Oh, no. You don't get out of that one. What exactly happened with that man?"

"Listen. Bingley. I have a reputation in this country. People see me as…confident. Unshakable. And that's how I want them to see me. No one can know that I was…jealous, that I got so drunk that I hit a man for finding my wife…attractive. I have to be strong, I have to be in control. That's who I am. That's what it is to be a Darcy. And I need you to keep it that way."

"Very well, I'll agree to keep your secret, but I have to know this whole story someday."

"Fine. But not today. The sun is going down, we have to get in position to protect the house."

The two men left the study and hurried down towards the bottom of the house. They stopped at the servant's dining quarters, which were directly off the kitchen, to ensure Lizzy had the pistol and for Darcy to make one last failed attempt to convince her to get farther away.

They quietly proceeded through the kitchen to the cellar, knowing that they could be there for minutes or hours, and the moment the men entered they had to be ready.

It was just past midnight when they heard muffled voices arguing below. Bingley couldn't help but roll his eyes at the lack of focus of the two intruders, but Darcy pulled back the hammer on his gun and clenched his jaw.

They heard the creek of an old trap door, and the groans of the two men as they pulled themselves up a stair and through the small hole. When they heard the crash of jars being knocked off their shelves, Darcy raised his pistol and pointed it towards the door.

The door whipped open to reveal two angry, drunk men with cobwebs in their hair and swords in their hands. Seeing the gun in Mr. Darcy's hand pointed straight at his temple, Mr. Creedence dropped his sword and backed against the wall. Mr. Wickham simply raised his sword and pointed at Mr. Darcy's throat.

"You picked the wrong victim, Darcy. Of course, you never were good at making important decisions. Creed only wants Miss Elizabeth, he has no interest in you. I, on the other hand, came here to see you; to return all those favors you've so kindly bestowed on me all these years. Perhaps you recall denying me the promised living, refusing me your dear sister's hand, convincing Miss Elizabeth you were the victim, and of course compelling me to marry that useless bitch Lydia—"

BANG!

"Aaaah!" Wickham screamed as he fell to the ground, blood spilling from his left knee.

"Lizzy, you were supposed to stay in the dining room!" Darcy turned to see his wife framed by the doorway.

"Did you really think I would stay?"

BANG!

Lizzy and Darcy turned to see Mr. Creedance collapse on the ground with a knife clutched in his hand, Mr. Bingley standing over him, slightly shaken, having knocked the villain with the butt of his pistol.

"He…he was going to…he was behind you, he had a knife!"

"Charles, I can't thank you enough. Please, be so kind as to tie them both up, we'll tell the sheriff they're a burglars. That won't damage our reputation any."

"Agreed, Darce," Mr. Bingley was shaking, but he pulled off his cravat to tie Mr. Creedance.

"Elizabeth, we can talk later about your refusal to stay in one place so I can keep you safe. Right now, I have to know why a perfect shot like yourself went for the knee when we could have been rid of him forever."

Mr. Bingley interjected, "Erm, so sorry to interrupt, but might I borrow your cravat, Darcy? I only have the one, and there are two of them, you see." Darcy pulled off his cravat and handed it off without looking away from his wife.

"William, it's not my place to decide who lives and who dies. I didn't want to hurt anyone in the first place!"

"Then why did you come here?"

"To make sure you were safe. I was listening outside the door, and then…and then…" Lizzy's eyes welled with tears. Mr. Bingley focused a little harder on securing the knots on Mr. Wickham than was really necessary.

"Darling, what is it?" Darcy walked up to Elizabeth and cupped her face in his hands, wiping a tear from her cheek. "What made you come through the door? I only want to protect you."

"William, no one is allowed to talk about my sister like that. Lydia may be silly, she may be impulsive, she may be a little uncouth at times, but she is my sister. No one talks like that about my sister. No one." Darcy pulled his sweet, protective, pregnant wife to his chest and let her cry.


	22. Chapter 22

_Several months later:_

 _Darcy woke, but didn't open his eyes. He stretched to Lizzy's side of the bed, and found it empty. He didn't get a chance to open his eyes and look for her before he felt the thud of a goose-down pillow on his face._

 _Startled, Darcy turned toward the source of the disturbance only to find his wife standing in the early morning light, laughing, wearing nothing but his shirt._

 _Lizzy swung the pillow around again before he could defend himself, then backed away, giggling slightly._

 _In a moment, Darcy was out of bed, holding the other pillow as a shield, chasing his wife across the room. Finally, he faked a swing with his pillow_ _her head, ducked under her defensive maneuovre and caught her around the waist._

 _Throwing her over her shoulder, he carried her back to their bed, while she ineffectually whacked her pillow on his back._

 _Sitting on the bed he pulled her down to his lap and across his knees._

" _That was very naughty of you, Elizabeth." He swung his leg over his to keep hers in place, and placed his arm on her back so she was unable to sit up. " You've been a very bad girl."_

" _Have I, Mr. Darcy?" Lizzy bit her lip._

" _Oh, yes. Very bad indeed. So naughty that I'm going to have to spank you. Now, how many times did you hit me with that pillow?" Darcy smiled a little, stroking his fine wife's round behind._

" _Including when you carried me back to the bed, Mr. Darcy? Five, I think, sir."_

" _Five, let's see. I think three for each time you hit me with the pillow, Elizabeth." Darcy tightened his grip on his wife's small waist, ran his hand teasingly between her thighs and pulled it back._

 _Lizzy squirmed and bit her lip as Darcy started to spank her, she felt herself becoming aroused at his every touch._

" _Hmmm... Elizabeth, naughty little Elizabeth. I think you'll learn your lesson better without this." Darcy reached for the edge of his shirt and lifted it up, exposing his wife's lovely and slightly pink ass to himself._

" _And if I disagree, Mr. Darcy?"_

" _Irrelevant."_

 _Darcy kept spanking his wife, occasionally stopping to feel how hot and wet his wife was becoming. When he reached fifteen, he reached down towards her knees and began dragging his nails along her inner thigh, loving the way she squirmed, the way her muscles tensed with need for him, the way he could feel her breath catch._

" _Now, dearest Elizabeth, to punish you for waking me up." Darcy grinned as he felt Elizabeth's renewed squirming in his lap. "Five more, I think. Yes." As Darcy renewed his wife's punishment, he was finding himself aroused seeing his Lizzy's skin take on a warm, pink tone, feeling the heat from his hand, watching her flesh quiver at his touch. When his hand made its final contact with her soft skin, he kept her over his knee for a moment._

" _Now, are you going to dare wake your husband up in so violent a manner again, Elizabeth?"_

" _No, Sir," Lizzy gasped into their mattress._

" _Good girl," Darcy released her legs from his and removed his forearm from her back so she would be free to rise. He reached for her, expecting her to come into his arms, to allow him to hold her, to allow him to kiss her as softly as she deserved._

 _Instead she slipped from his lap onto her knees in front of him, biting her lip once more._

" _Elizabeth…" he moaned._

" _Please," she whispered._

 _Darcy was releasing himself from the restraint of his trousers, so eager was he for his wife's ministrations that he had already begun leaking. Lizzy leaned forward…_

"Will! William! Fitzwilliam Darcy, you wake up this instant!" Darcy was pulled out of his dream most unwillingly, only to find its subject leaning over him, shaking him by the dying light of the fire. As was his habit, he reached up, grabbed her, and pulled her mouth to his.

For the first time in their lives together, she pulled away from him. Darcy knew it wasn't possible for his wife to miss the remaining arousal from his dream, and he couldn't help feeling insulted.

He then noticed that the bed was wet beneath him.

"Will. Will, you need to get the doctor. And my sister. The baby's coming. The baby's coming now."


	23. Chapter 23

Darcy thought he knew what it was to be afraid. He was afraid when he began taking his father's position as master of Pemberley. He had been afraid when his sister had been in love with Wickham. He had been afraid when he proposed to his wife at the parish, to speak nothing of the second time he had proposed.

But this...this was terror. He had a horse mounted while he dispatched a letter to the Bingleys, then he rode like mad into town to get the doctor. _Why didn't I have a doctor on retainer and staying at Pemberley? I know of the danger of childbirth, why didn't I prepare better._

Meanwhile, still in the house, Lizzy shouted for her maid to fetch Mrs. Reynolds, the only person she trusted to keep a clear head while they welcomed the child into the world. By the time the elder woman had joined her in the master bedroom, Lizzy was clutching at her covers, working her way through the first of her labor pains.

Darcy returned with Dr. Trainor within the hour. He ran back to Lizzy, only to be hurried out again by Mrs. Reynolds.

"No, Mr. Darcy, I insist. The last thing we need is you in this room." Mr. Darcy was inclined neither to comply nor to test himself against Mrs. Reynolds' will, especially in an area in which she was so much more experienced. Therefore, he left mostly of his own free will, passing the doctor-who had finally arrived.

The moment he was in the hall, he called for a servant to bring a chair. He was lucky that several of his men had woken up in the commotion, and a chair was immediately brought to the hall. Immediately upon sitting in said chair, Darcy felt himself unable to rest, and began pacing.

Lizzy, meanwhile, was wondering how humanity had continued so long, with this as the method for progeneration. Dr. Trainor assured her everything was going well, especially since it was her first time giving birth; Lizzy wondered how he could possibly have had an opinion on this, having never been in the position himself. She also felt that the comment that she had grown considerably large would have been better kept to himself.

 _Why didn't I at least ask Bingley and Jane to stay when I knew Elizabeth was close to her time?_ Brooded Darcy as he wore another path through the antique carpet of the hall. _They won't be here for hours, and I know if there's anyone who can get Elizabeth through this, it's her._ He heard every cry from her from his position in the hall, felt his heart wrench with pain every time she began. He felt his heart drop with fear every time she stopped.

After what felt like years, but was in reality only about ten hours, Mrs. Bingley came running past Mr. Darcy, looking pale and, for the first time in his memory, disheveled. Bingley came several minutes later, visibly out of breath from trying to keep up with his wife. He was the first person to occupy the chair since its introduction to the hall, and shortly after arriving he asked Darcy how it was proceeding.

"I have no idea. They won't let me in, all I know is that I confirm she's still alive every time I hear her call out in pain." Bingley flinched at this description.

Lizzy wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. Years of walking had been wonderful exercise, but she couldn't conceive of the miles she would have needed to cover to prepare for what she was now asking of her body. When Jane finally ran into the room, she reached for her sister's hands on pure instinct. Her pains were only moments apart now, and weren't hurting any less.

The next contraction was the worst she had felt yet-she knew the others in the room wouldn't like it, but she needed her husband in the room.

"FITZWILLIAM DARCY. GET IN THIS ROOM. NOW." Lizzy screamed with surprising force for someone clenching their jaw so tightly.

Darcy didn't need to be asked twice; he forced the door open to find his wife in their bed sitting in blood and…no, he didn't want to know. Jane released one of Lizzy's hands, and he claimed it in his own. The moment he looked in her eyes, he knew she was just as afraid as she was.

"Mrs. Darcy," implored Dr. Trainor, "I really must insist that Mr. Darcy quit the room. This is no place for a father-"

"If Mr. Darcy sets one foot outside of this room, Doctor, I swear on this entire estate that I will have you forcibly removed directly in his wake." For once, Darcy was glad that his wife's fine eyes were not directed at him; he believed that their fire would have incinerated him where he stood.

"Ahem. Very well, Mrs. Darcy…if you insist."

"I do-ah." Lizzy bent forward, and Mrs. Reynolds nudged the doctor.

"I believe it might be time for Mrs. Darcy to push, doctor." Dr. Trainor was about to argue with the older woman; he was, after all, the doctor here, and they'd had enough breeches of custom with Mr. Darcy in the room, when Jane interupted.

"Mrs. Reynolds-Doctor-I believe I see the head!"

"Alright, Mrs. Darcy, it's time to push. It won't be long now."

Darcy refused to take his eyes off his wife's face, terrified she was in the same danger his mother had been in, terrified she was too weak, that it had taken too long, that the baby was too large for her small body, that he had found his other half and was about to lose her.

Lizzy couldn't help the primordial moans that came out of her mouth with the last heavy push. She suddenly felt a huge relief. She fell back upon the pillows and closed her eyes, breathing as deeply as she could, grateful that it was now over. Darcy released her hand to examine his first-born.

"Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, it's a boy!"

"A boy-oh!" Lizzy's pain had returned, just as sharp just as strong. This was not the afterbirth Lizzy's mother had warned her of. This was just like having the baby all over again. Lizzy wasn't sure she could do it a second time. Darcy returned to her side, having barely glanced at his son.

"Oh. Mrs. Reynolds, Mrs. Reynolds, please, what's happening?" Lizzy cried.

"Dr. Trainor, what's the meaning of this?" Darcy barked.

"Oh my. Lizzy, I see a head!" Jane cried again. The pain started to pass again, and Lizzy was starting to wonder if the first pains had damaged her mind and caused her to fabricate this.

"What? How? Lizzy!" Darcy felt his wife's grip return, and she renewed her moans.

"I...I...this is not the standard procedure, sir!" Dr. Trainor had gone pale. Jane, being the only person present who had actually grasped the situation, pushed Dr. Trainor into a corner of the room and placed herself between her sister's knees.

"Lizzy, dearest, I'm going to need you to be strong. I'm going to need you to push." If he hadn't been so focused on holding his wife's hand and watching her face for signs of danger, Darcy would have wondered at the new tone of command in his sister-in-law's voice.

"Must I, Jane? I'm so tired." Jane looked at her sister and realized how exhausted she truly was. But she would have to do this, God and nature had left her no choice.

"You must, Lizzy. But focus, darling, a moment's work can bring a lifetime of happiness." Lizzy moaned again. "Now, Lizzy, push as hard as you can!"

This labor pain lasted only a moment, and as Lizzy fell back against the pillows, she was just conscious enough to hear her sister's announcement.

"Lizzy, Mr. Darcy, it's a girl!"


	24. Chapter 24

Elizabeth slept the remainder of the day, the full following night, and half the day after that. As far as her husband and sister were concerned, no one had ever deserved it more. Darcy refused to leave her side, even to eat, still nervous that she was too near the brink of danger. The newest Darcys were being looked after by Mrs. Bingley, Georgiana, Mrs. Reynolds, and anyone in the household who wasn't actively doing their designated chores.

When Elizabeth did finally wake up, she found she was asleep on her husband's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. She stretched, sighed, and reached down to feel the rise of her stomach, as she had on so many previous occasions.

"Oh…" she sighed, finding herself substantially smaller.

"Elizabeth, at last, you're awake. What do you need, love?"

"Oh...nothing, William, I just...I had the strangest dream. Where is our son?"

"He is in the next room, probably getting more attention than any baby since the Christ Child. Do you not inquire for his sister?"

"Sister? Oh, William, it wasn't a dream? There were two?"

"Twins, darling, you had twins. Two strong, healthy babies. According to everyone else, at least, I haven't left you long enough to determine for myself. The doctor assures me it's quite normal for people to sleep for a day and a half after that sort of ordeal, but he didn't seem to know what to do when the girl came, so I'm not terribly inclined to...what are you doing, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth had suddenly realized that she had two children she had barely seen, and was attempting to get up and see to their well-being herself. She made it two steps before beginning to wobble. Fortunately, her husband was determined that she would do nothing but rest, and swept her off her feet and back into the bed.

"Elizabeth, you are absolutely forbidden to leave that bed at present. If you wish to see the children, I will have them brought to us upon your command."

"Of course I wish to see the children!" The word felt strange in Lizzy's mouth; she still could not believe that she had not one but two children. "Who is Dr. Trainor to limit me to my bed? I'm no longer with child, I should be free to go where I please."

Darcy called for a maid to send for the children at once, then returned to his wife. "It is not Dr. Trainor, love, but me that restricts you to bed. Mrs. Reynolds has told me much of how fatigued and prone to illness new mothers are, and I will not take that chance. Further, I must insist that we employ a regular nurse for the children at the earliest possible opportunity."

This short speech was ended by the entrance of Georgiana Darcy holding her nephew and Jane Bingley holding her niece. The moment she looked upon them, every other concern that Elizabeth had melted away.

"Oh. There really are two, aren't there?" Everyone laughed as Lizzy was handed her son. She found it challenging, but not impossible, to shift the boy into the crook of her arm securely so his sister could occupy the other side.

"Jane, Georgie, I do beg your pardon, but might we have a moment alone?"

"Certainly, brother," Georgiana slipped out of the room, followed by Jane, who closed the door securely behind her.

Darcy returned to the bed and slid his arms around his wife's shoulders.

"What do you suppose we should name them, Elizabeth?" He whispered.

"I seem to recall a conversation about this some months ago, William. Of course, I believe it dissolved into a debate over which gender we each believed the child would be. Doesn't that seem pointless now?" Darcy laughed as one of the babies, his son- _my heir_ , he realized-began to cry.

"William, who has been feeding the children while I was asleep?" Lizzy had not considered until then that her children would have no interest in her rest when they felt compelled to seek nourishment. She looked inquiringly at her husband while handing him his daughter so she could feed her son for the first time.

"Elizabeth, don't be angry with me…" Darcy knew she had not wanted anyone near the child that she hadn't personally approved, and he had to assume that her defensiveness had increased in proportion to the population of the nursery. Her distracting breast wasn't going to help him make his argument.

"Who, Darcy?"

"I hired a wet-nurse from the village, an honest woman, clean, several healthy children."

"Darcy, I wanted to feed our children myself! They're mine, ours, and I should get that privilege!"

"And you shall have it, my love. But you were asleep and exhausted, you could not be asked to do more for them. We had no choice, and Jane quite approves Mrs. Turner. And there are two, you need the assistance. We don't have to keep her forever, but you are going to rest until you're truly better, Elizabeth. There will be no concession on that point."

"We can put that on the list of things we will discuss later. I suppose a day and a half without names is probably long enough. What are your thoughts?"

"Darcy tradition dictates that his name would be Bennet. Bennet Darcy. Elizabeth, what's wrong?" Darcy had moved his eyes from the face of his son to that of his wife and found tears running down her face.

"Oh, William. Bennet Darcy. It's such a beautiful combination of you and me. He's named after our love, I can't think of anything better to name him." Darcy pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed the tears from Elizabeth's cheeks.

"I never thought about it that way before. I suppose that's where it must have come from. I wonder if my parents said the same." She smiled at the rare wistful look on his face. "Now, a middle name. Any ideas?"

"We've given him a name from each side of the family, perhaps the middle should be an outside source. George after the king, perhaps?"

"George was also my father, it would favor my side too heavily. And it's Wickham's first name." Elizabeth shuddered at the memory of her sister's husband, stuck rotting in prison in Scotland with his accomplice after their ill-thought forced entry to their home left him with a permanent limp.

"Perhaps we should stop looking to people and start looking to literature. We do both like to read, after all." Bennet Undecided Darcy was now sated, and his mother had begun returning her nightdress to its customary position when his sister decided she was ready to dine. She carefully traded children with Darcy and switched sides to continue feeding. He wondered what he might inadvertently agree to when presented with such a delightful sight.

"Excellent idea, what do you think, son? Bennet Hamlet Darcy, or Bennet Quixote Darcy? Or perhaps your mother favors Bennet Virgil Darcy."

"I'm serious, William. When I was a girl, my favorite stories were of the round table. What about Bennet Arthur Darcy? He is, after all, a son of Albion."

"That was one of my favorite tales when I was a child, too. You must never tell anyone this, but I used to throw sticks into the pond where your uncle and I fish, so that I could find them and use them as swords. Bennet Arthur Darcy...I think it's perfect."

"Bennet Arthur Darcy it is, then. And now for our daughter's name."

"How does Morgana strike your fancy?"

"We are not naming our first daughter after an evil sorceress."

"Are you sure? Look, she has your eyes, I am quite confident she will be capable of enchanting people when she so chooses."

Elizabeth blushed at the intensity of Darcy's gaze. "Perhaps Elaine or Guinevere? I think twins ought to have names similar in theme."

"I find I'm in agreement with Guinevere, but I never cared for the name Elaine. It somehow manages to be both short and long. And Guinevere can be shortened for everyday use."

"There we are, Guinevere on Sundays, Gwen for every day. William, perhaps we should have a family name for her as well. How do you like Guinevere Anne Darcy?"

It was Darcy's turn to be emotional, though he did not allow the tears their freedom.

"My mother would be honored." He smiled at his children, thankful for the woman beside him, thankful he had found his family, and promising silently to never let them go.

"It's settled then. Bennet Arthur and Guinevere Anne Darcy."


	25. Chapter 25

_Gentle reader,_

 _Would you believe me if I told you that it was not my intention that the children's names rhyme? A happy accident in what will finally be a happy family, I suppose. Please continue to rate, review, and comment (and please note, if interested, I have another story for another fandom but of a similar theme)._

 _Thank you, as always, for your support and fellowship._

 _Love,_

 _RobinDesBois_

Darcy had always been known for having a controlled, predictable life. Never making a move without precedent, never doing anything to reveal any weakness, never straying from the bounds of social norms.

Until the day he married Elizabeth Bennet, his life had never changed. She brought laughter and sunshine back into his home, and though never crossing the lines of social contracts, always pushing it a little at a time.

Then his children were born. They were provided with their father and aunt's crib, but it was immediately realized that a second would need to be commissioned; they would fit singularly for several years, but together they would outgrow it in months. The finest carpenter in Lambton was immediately given the commission to replicate the family crib. In addition to this, Lizzy and Georgiana had been stitching and knitting and embroidering for months on end-but only with one child in mind. Every maid in the house capable of wielding a needle was immediately reassigned to the needs of the young master and mistress. For the final nail in the coffin of his dignity, Lizzy had commanded the removal of the cribs from the adjoining nursery into their own room, meaning he was up attempting to assist his wife with her maternal obligations several times each night.

For Fitzwilliam Darcy, the worst part of the changes wrought on his life came in the form of his wife. Refusing to allow the wet-nurse her duties unless absolutely necessary, Lizzy was constantly exposing him to the temptation to carry her from the room and put another child in her as quickly-and as passionately-as he could.

Before the Meryton assembly, this assault on the custom comfort of his life would have bothered the stalwart Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. But the first time he woke to see his wife feeding his children, he knew there was nothing he would not due to ensure that this became his new normal routine.

Just a few weeks after they were born, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy experienced what they would both privately consider one of the proudest days of their lives. The small but beautiful church of Mr. Rev. John Bolton in Lambton village welcomed to the world the Darcy twins, baptizing and officially naming them Guinevere Anne and Bennet Arthur. The staff, of course, had already learned the names of their new charges, and had silently and unanimously decided that little Miss Gwen and young Master Ben would want for nothing.

The slow but steady loss of their staff to their children did not go unnoticed by Darcy and Lizzy, but they were secretly relieved; they had not found any supplemental staff for poor Mrs. Turner, whom Lizzy had grudgingly approved. The little Miss and young Master were not permitted to so much as hiccup without at least a maid or a footman running in to see to their needs; a cry would bring the staff of entire floor.

Two months later, the staffing problem remained unresolved, but Lizzy Darcy had bigger problems. She had (almost, but no one need know that part) recovered her health. She was walking as far as ever, though if pressed she would admit that she was resting a little longer after. She felt her body had changed, but not so much that she felt unattractive. Her desire for her husband had remained as steady as the man himself, but her body had finally acquiesced to the wishes of the heart and mind.

 _But just how,_ Lizzy wondered, _shall I seduce him?_


	26. Chapter 26

_Gentle reader,_

 _So excited to still be writing this. Please keep commenting! It makes my day._

 _Love,_

 _RobinDesBois_

Darcy was beginning to think that the dreams would kill him. In a state of nocturnal bliss, he had taken his wife in every position he could conceive, and even a few he wouldn't have been able to think of consciously. He'd submitted to, dominated, served, and held his wife in every location his mind could create, from the lake in front of their estate where he had played as a boy to a seedier street of Paris, where they had engaged role-acting that had never occurred to him before.

He wouldn't say a word of it to his wife, not until she was ready. He had heard tales, horrifying tales, of men who had returned to their wives too quickly after childbirth. Stories of pain, infections, and blood. No, his beloved Lizzy would have to come to him. And if she took the rest of their lives to do it - well, then, so be it. He would sooner remain celibate the rest of his life than risk danger to her. Nothing would be worth that.

Though the strain of her increased breasts on her formerly somewhat loose gowns were certainly a temptation to him.

The day Gwenevere and Bennet Darcy turned two months old, Mr. Darcy had just resolved to return to the habit of his youth of swimming in lake to burn off his ardor, when his wife walked into his office.

"Mr. Darcy, I have come to remind you of a matter of most urgent business," Lizzy announced, hands firmly on her hips. Darcy chose to ignore how ridiculous it was that he had been reduced to envying the positioning of his wife's small hands.

"And what, my love, is this matter."

"I was promised a walk with my husband, the length of which is to be determined at my pleasure." Lizzy smiled her teasing half-smirk.

"Ah, a matter as urgent as this must take precedence over all others at once, Mrs. Darcy. Mrs. Turner has her charges well in hand, I assume?" Darcy walked around his desk and offered his arm to Lizzy.

"Quite as in hand as I believe twin infants can ever be, Mr. Darcy." Lizzy smiled and walked by his side as they left his office.

"Lizzy dear, you're quite certain you're well enough to travel this far afoot?" Darcy couldn't help inquiring, after they had been walking a complete hour.

"My dear Mr. Darcy, you worry without cause. I assure you, I am able to walk just as far as I ever have."

"I only worry, love, that you will find yourself suddenly unequal to the task of returning home." Lizzy swung herself around the trunk of a young tree to give her husband a teasing look.

"I have enough faith in you, darling, to think you unlikely to leave me out here alone, if I were overcome." Lizzy refused to divulge to her husband that she had no plans for them to return that evening.

Darcy reached out and grabbed his wife's waist, pulling her against the length of his body, and kissing her with as much as abandon as a man violently in love might be expected to do.

"My dearest Elizabeth, my darling Lizzy, my only love. I would carry you to the ends of the earth, if it meant I could bear witness to your lovely smile."


	27. Chapter 27

Elizabeth Darcy led her husband by the hand deep into the woods surrounding their estate, following the path Mrs. Reynolds had showed her the previous day. When they finally reached the small cottage in the woods, Darcy stopped in his tracks and his grip on his wife's hand stopped her, as well.

"Elizabeth, why have you brought us here, of all places?"

"William, those foul men have been gone for months now. I think it's time we reclaimed the cottage for Darcy use. I had some of the servants out here this afternoon, dinner is waiting inside. Additionally, I haven't been alone with you for any period in two months, and I'm growing quite impa-" Darcy finished her thought with a soft kiss.

"Well, then, Mrs. Darcy, may I escort you to dinner?"

"You certainly may, Mr. Darcy."

A full hour later, when the Darcys had completed the most delicious and peaceful meal in recent memory, along with a bottle of France's best wine, Darcy asked when she planned to return to the main house.

"Actually, William, I have Mrs. Turner watching the children by herself this evening, and I had the servants deliver supplies for breakfast as well as dinner. I thought perhaps we could stay here…"

"Elizabeth Darcy, I like the way you think. I assume you also had something to wear tomorrow delivered?"

"Of course."

"And you're certain, absolutely certain, that both you and the children will be well apart for the night?"

"I think we'll manage, but I would request that you divert me from any worry I might feel on their behalf."

"And how, my dear, shall I provide such a diversion?"

"Oh, I'm certain you'll think of something." Darcy was almost embarrassed at the thrill going through him-this conversation carried every indication that she was ready to return to their accustomed marital state, and he was happy to let her lead him wherever she wished to take them.

"I ordered a new nightgown recently, as well. It is getting rather late, I think I shall change. Come to bed soon, darling?"

"Of course, love."

 _Damn it all, I was so certain she was ready,_ he thought. _But surely she wouldn't need a new nightgown in that case...she's never slept in one before when we've…._

The thought was lost to the archives of Darcy's mind. His wife had returned in her new nightgown, and he was finding the term to be rather a misappellation. The alleged nightgown was black, sleveless, and cut so low he wasn't entirely sure how she wasn't spilling out of it, and it only fell to her knees. The middle was less of a night dress and more of a corset, laced up the front and secured so tightly that her breasts, already enlarged with milk for the babies, were straining at the collar. The silk was so thin he could see the outline of everything that wasn't already exposed to him even in the dim light of the fire.

"Do you like it?" she asked, blushing a little. Darcy swallowed hard, certain his wife could see that he liked it by how hard he was straining his breeches.

"Does this-ahem-does this mean you're ready for me to come to you again?" He barely got the words out in his desperation to tear the silk from her and claim her, but he needed to hear the words, needed her to tell him she was ready.

"Quite ready, William," she punctuated her consent by biting her lip, and Darcy was lost.


	28. Chapter 28

Gentle _Reader,_

 _Your patience will be rewarded ;)_

 _I really enjoy your comments. Thanks for all the support._

 _(P.S., The formatting of this chapter was a NIGHTMARE, it kept coming out as one giant paragraph; my apologies to anyone who gets updates and got a bunch of emails, lol.)_

 _Love,_

 _RobinDesBois_

Darcy walked across the room in two long strides and swept his wife off her feet. He carried her into the bedroom and threw her down on the bed, immediately landing on top of her. She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, but he was quicker. Her hands were instantly pinned above her head, and he was pulling the strap of her nightgown down to expose her shoulder to his teeth. Lizzy gasped at the sound of the fabric tearing.

"Will! You're ripping it!" Lizzy tried to squirm away and save what was left of the nightgown. "I had this custom made in London!"

"I'll buy you another one. I'll buy you a hundred, and I'll rip them all off you," Darcy growled in her ear, then bit her neck. He used his free hand to hike her dress up over her waist and her leg over his hip, deeply satisfied with the gasp this elicited from his wife. He reached for the corseted center of her gown and ripped the sides apart, shredding the string but leaving the corset itself intact. He was pleased to discover it was a separate piece from the silk underneath. He sat up in the bed, tossed the corset to the floor, and removed his own shirt.

When Darcy returned to his position over his wife, one of his hands circling both her wrists, the other cradling one breast, he ducked his head to her remaining breast and began to suck her nipple through the thin silk still covering them. He expected the small amount of milk that escaped her, but he did not expect her cries of ecstasy as he ran her tongue over her, r did he anticipate the delight he would find in the taste of her milk.

"Lizzy," he moaned, reaching up to the collar of her nightgown and feeling for the small tear he had begun earlier. He found it and easily ripped the black silk down the middle, exposing her luscious body to his every touch.

"Please, William, I'm ready. Take me." What remained of his self control was lost in those words. The hand that wasn't holding her wrists in place found its way to his trousers and released him from the confinement of the increasingly tight fabric.

"Elizabeth, I'm going to bury myself so deeply in you that I don't know where I stop and you begin." Lizzy gasped with pleasure as he thrust into her.

It had been Darcy's intention to make love to his wife slowly, gently, reestablishing the intimacy the had started with, before exploring the new, more adventurous natures they had discovered almost a year before.

His intentions very much went the way of the custom ordered nightgown.


End file.
